The Places That You've Come To Fear The Most
by JacksMannequin102
Summary: I hate it when she does that. It makes my stomach drop when she plasters on that fake pearly smile and pretends everything is okay. slight AU. LP season one mostly.
1. pt 1

**A/N: Lucas and Peyton are my favorite couple by far and i thought i'd explore how much Lucas knows Peyton and how much he cares about her. I don't own One Tree Hill or Lucas or Peyton. I just love them to death. Italics are the song and the rest is Lucas' POV.**

**Song: _The Places That You've Come To Fear The Most_ by Dashboard Confessional**

_Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself_

I hate it when she does that. It makes my stomach drop when she plasters on that fake pearly smile and pretends everything is okay.

_Covered with a perfect shell_

I know it's not okay and she knows it too but no one else will ever know because she won't let them. She won't let me know either, or rather she just doesn't want me to know. She doesn't want me to know the lingering pain of coming home to an empty house, the searing agony every year when that day comes, the sinking disappointment of everyone rejecting her drawings, or the gnawing emptiness from that piece missing in her heart and the augmenting hopelessness that she'll never find it.

_Such a charming beautiful exterior_

I remember her at school when I first saw her. She was so beautiful and perfect but I was a six year old boy and she was a six year old girl. Ergo, we weren't allowed to talk. So, I just sneaked glances at her during lunch or story time. She was so blissfully happy and so buoyant. Even then she had an exceptional ability for the arts. The teacher would always hang up her drawings about the classroom. They were drawings of horses or fairies and other little girl things.

Then she turned eight years old and she transformed into a polar opposite. She never laughed nor did she cry actually. She was plainly apathetic but her drawings were the door to her feelings so locked away. She no longer spun colorful tales of great stallions or enchanted forests on her paper. No, she drew dark, lifeless woods with a pitch black sky and deserted, worn houses. She once drew a vivid depiction of _the_ car crash and the teacher called her into the office to "have a word with her." She never drew like that at school again.

_Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes_

She went back to the way she used to be. The fun, cheerful, smiling girl I had once known but there was something different. She never quite became her old self. She almost fooled me, though, but I could easily detect the sadistic undertones and the hidden indifference towards everything. She fooled everyone else beautifully; behind that artificial glowing smile.

I let it be for a while. My uncle Keith urged me to get a job after school let out to help my mother. Not financially, of course, but just to keep her from worrying about me missing basketball. So I did as I was told and got a job sweeping the pews at this large cathedral south of town. I did it every Saturday morning especially because that was when the weddings were. On the ground floor, the seats would nearly fill themselves to the brim with proud parents and giggly friends. I would prepare the church for mass on Sunday by sweeping the pews on the upper level so I could look down and watch the pristine event unfold.

I did that for a month or two until one day I noticed an out of place visitor. The cathedral was enormous so hardly ever were all the seats filled during a wedding. In the very back that day, beneath me on the ground floor, huddled a little girl with familiar blonde curls hanging over her face. I could almost see the glint in her green eyes as she silently observed the spectacle.

_Perfect posture but you're barely scraping by_

I learned, after her third or so visit, that this was her method of coping. At this one place and time, she found herself at peace among the hopeful and tender eyes of the bride and groom. If it wasn't for her weekly wedding fix, she wouldn't have survived. The sudden absence of her father and crying herself to sleep nightly became too much. She watched the weddings just to renew her hope slightly. It was as much as she would get. Nobody ever noticed her quietly watching and that was the way she liked it.

_But you're barely scraping by_

Just as she watched the wedding, I watched her every Saturday but I never disturbed her or let my watching be known. That is, until I found myself in a sticky predicament.

You see, she usually cries towards the end silently; just lonesome tears streaking down her face finally able to release the pent up despair behind them. Then, she swiftly takes off and leaves the church as discretely as she came.

That day, she didn't leave. Her eyes stayed transfixed on the alter, even after everyone had left to the reception; tears still running down her porcelain face. It was my job to clean up the ground floor after everyone left and the top floor was done. As stated, I'd cleaned every row save hers and I must say I was rather reluctant to disturb her. For the sake of my job, however, I had to. Who knew it would be the best move I've ever made.

_This is one time_

I set down my broom and wiped my sweaty palms on my filthy jeans two sizes too big as I slowly approached her. She was wearing an off-white dress with ruffles and lace of all sorts. The sort of dress a flower girl wears only she had no shoes and her hair wasn't done up. I shook myself out of my trance and got as close as I could without breaking her personal space rules she made so widely known.

Shaking, my hand rose up to her shoulder and I let it fall, lightly tapping her only to evoke no initial response.

"Peyton?" I whispered softly. Upon hearing me she slowly turned her head to look me straight in the eye. I've never seen such sadness and remorse upon anyone's features as Peyton's that day.

She was trying to hold it in, the sobbing I mean, I could tell she was about to break. As she stared at me with such anguish I could see right into her soul, a skill I've perfected to this day.

_This is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please_

No longer hesitant, I sat down right next to her to the point where my knee outright touched hers and she fell into her place. Her head collapsed onto my shoulder and my arms enveloped her bony frame in the best hug I could muster. To my utter surprise she completely broke down in my arms, sobbing and clinging to my ratty old shirt for dear life. She was the first girl to ever break my heart with the cries she emitted.

_Everyone or anyone at all_

We stayed like that for quite some time until she's let it all out. Her mop of silky curls was contently rested against my shoulder and I dared to speak.

"Do you want me to take you home?" I asked meekly. She lifted her head to look at me with those electric eyes and I could see her mulling it over. Eventually, she shook her head, dropping her gaze to the ground. I thought we were going to stay in the church for another long while but she surprised me again.

_Or anyone at all_

Abruptly, she leapt to her feet and grabbed my hand. She didn't pull me, but I followed her silently and obediently through the church benches and towards the doors. Before she touched the door handle, she spun around and caught me off guard with her gaze.

This time, I met her with equal power and conveyed my understanding. She searched my face for trustworthiness and I knew she trusted me to never speak of this moment. As far as I knew, for her I'd already shoved it to the back of my mind for safe keeping. Satisfied, she turned back around and proceeded to leave the church and its massive doors closed contently in our wake.

_And the grave that you refuse to leave_

She took me to the cemetery where she was buried. Falling to her knees in front of the eminent tombstone, she pulled a dried flower out of her dress pocket. Delicately placing it in the grass among the other flowers, she became lost in thought.

I merely watched her, not wanting to intrude on this sentimental moment for her. I did stand directly behind her, though, if she were to need to feel my presence suddenly.

I had anticipated correctly when she reached back blindly searching for my hand. I gave it to her and dropped to my knees beside her. No words were spoken and she didn't even look at me but I comprehended. She just wanted me, or well, someone to be there and feel her pain; someone to understand. I was more than willing to be that someone and forever will be.

Her head dropped to my shoulder again and I let my arm crawl up and fit snugly around her shoulders. I could feel her exhaustion radiating off of her. We backed up against the nearby tree as fatigue overtook her.

_The refuge that you built to flee_

We both fell asleep, her before me, and when I awoke, I felt the crisp evening air against my side where she once laid. Frustration began to sweep over my senses and I wanted to scream. I was so close to finding the old Peyton! She almost let me in! But I'd scared her with my compassion and ability to read her. Things she was very unfamiliar with and frightened to death of. They didn't intimidate her; not really, it was the unsettling knowledge of the future that troubled her. Something that would trouble her for the rest of her life.

_The places that you've come to fear the most_

Now that she had me, she could lose me.


	2. pt 2

_Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself_

She never spoke to me after that day. I was merely left with the satisfaction that I'd shown her the love and compassion she'd needed to see. We both grew up and apart but I always kept my eye on her; making sure that if she was go breakdown again, I'd be there.

_Hidden in the public eye_

I was an outcast to say the least. My friends were hardly on the radar of most of Tree Hill High. They were good people, though, real people. People who knew me and looked out for each other, or at least I know I looked out for them. We didn't hang with the cool crowd but we had our own parties. Those endless nights staying up late and playing heart-pounding games of three on tree at the river court I will never forget. It was the way I liked it.

She became a cheerleader with her best friend, ironically. Again she fell into the pattern of fake smiles and forced happiness. It was perfect. Everybody knew her as the sarcastic bitch but still, everybody knew her. She was popular, on the list for all of the best parties and sought after by all of the hottest guys. She was Tree Hill's venomous temptress and she knew it. But that was all everyone knew her as. They didn't know the pain and they didn't know the demons she dealt with daily. That was the way she liked it.

_Such as stellar monument of loneliness_

She was still stunning; no longer the lovely little girl but a beautiful shadow of a woman. I was still in love with her. I still knew her. She surrounded herself with friends and a half-ass boyfriend to hide from herself. She overshadowed her unrelenting grief with lust and desire. However, as good as she was at coming off as an item of desire, she couldn't hide it from me.

On occasion, I would see her sit in the park beside the lake and draw. There, she sat slumped over her work but completely engrossed in it. As she drew on the paper, I saw the real emotions emerge on her face. She lay hidden among the trees and no teenager hung out in the park so she was safe from the world. My heart plummeted at the sadness and morose abandonment apparent on her down-turned lips.

I saw her at parties too, on the rare occasion that my friends and I got bored. She was in lively hysteria as she laughed with her friends and her eyes glistened but they never glowed. Later, as the evening carried on and everyone got wasted, she would migrate out to the back porch and stand against the rail. Her silhouette is what would catch my eye, the slim frame topped with flowing curls illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun. Even with her back turned, I could see her loneliness and if I was quiet, she would let me stand with her and gaze up at her walls that I would some day tear down again.

_Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes_

She kept that façade up everywhere else. The beauty radiated off of her as her face glowed with pride in her school's basketball team record. She cheered and carried on waving her pom poms and jumping around; getting the crowd as excited as she was. She would sometimes lock eyes with me and I saw her mask fall if only for a second. She knew I had that power and for that reason alone she steered clear of me. She couldn't risk letting it all fall apart again.

_Perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by_

I wanted to see her, the true her, again. When _the_ day came I felt a glimmer of hope that I could find her if I only looked in the right place. Snatching a light jacket off of the rack, I left my house and jogged to the cemetery as grey skies collected overhead.

Sure enough, there she was; on her knees again in the presence of that looming tombstone bringing her best wishes. I didn't approach her just yet but I looked on fondly as she laid a dozen roses at the feet of the carved stone. From where I stood, I could see she hadn't cried yet and her mascara was still fresh bringing out the captivating green more than ever.

_But you're barely scraping by_

I began my walk towards her sullen frame as she began to trace the letters of the name engraved in the glassy slate of stone. With each letter more tears fell and dripped off of her chin and onto her knees. She never looked up at me but I knew she saw me. She knew I was there.

_Well this is one time_

I sank down into the damp grass. Her gaze stayed on the lettering of the tombstone and her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and I ran my cold, rough fingers up and down her bare arm.

"Hey," I said, only audible enough for her to hear. I didn't get a response nor did I expect one, to tell the truth. The most I got was a blink with which a few tears spilled over unintentionally.

_This is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please_

I reached up further and moved closer until our arms grazed. I wanted to pull the dangling curls from her soft-featured face and so I did. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. I saw a couple more tears fall and I finally pulled her body in close to mine. She snaked her arms up my back and let her hands curl up over my shoulders and hid her face in the nape of my neck. It was mutually awkward considering we were both on our knees but I didn't dare let go.

_Everyone or anyone at all,_

Then the tears came again, slowly but surely. They began silently but evolved into heart-wrenching sobs. All of the regret and sorrow collided and catalyzed this secret breakdown. I rested my lips against her ear and whispered sweet nothings to calm her down. I felt like crying myself listening to her wails but I needed to be the rock this time. I felt her body convulse with every miserable sob and she nearly squeezed the life out of me but didn't mind. I will never mind.

_Or anyone at all_

She cried herself out until it was just silent tears and sniffles. It was then that I relocated us and carried her limp form to the same tree we laid against all those years ago. She remained in my arms for hours it seemed and my unwary hands drew soothing circles on her back. Shifting, she sat up slightly and rested her head under my chin snugly. I felt daring being so intimate with her that I pulled back slightly and planted an affectionate kiss atop her golden locks.

_And the grave that you refuse to leave_

I almost regretted my move when I felt her tense up against me. She turned in my lap to face me and lifted her hands to encompass the back of my head. At first my eyes wouldn't meet hers but as her fingers fiddled with my hair impatiently, I surrendered. Her emerald eyes opened up with such candor to me and I knew she was trying to let me in. I searched them for hesitation as she gradually closed the gap between us but I found nothing but desperation.

Both with eyes closed, we met for a sensual and heavenly kiss. I felt her body arch subtly towards mine and I let my hands glide up her back. Her lips toyed with mine as she lingered and then pulled back. I hoped to god that she wouldn't regret it.

_The refuge that you've built to flee_

Her eyes told a different story. They weren't completely blissful but satisfied. It was as if she'd just sated a prolonged hunger. My eyes urged her to continue but her expression merely turned to that of longing. She scanned my face as if committing it to memory and brushed a stray bang from my forehead before capriciously hopping onto her feet.

She plodded off towards her belongings and looked back at me still sitting in our treasured paradise. I caught her for a second contemplate staying but it was replaced with fear and dissipated behind the rebuilding of her walls.

_The places that you've come to fear the most_

She'd let me in for real that day. For the first time ever she allowed me to be her solace and her secret keeper. However, she was still scared. The last person she let in was ripped from her heart and left her beneath her crumbling life. I wanted to let her know that I wouldn't do that, I would never leave her. That understanding was unfortunately a two way street. If I was to be allowed into that perplexing and lonely head of hers, I would have to garner a place in her heart first.

_Is the place that you have come to fear the most_

Little did I know, I already had.


	3. pt 3

**A/N This is the third and final part, unfortunately. I originally made this as a three part so i'm not coping out on you guys, i promise. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as i've enjoyed writing it.**

_And you can't fake it hard enough to please_

I witnessed her attempt to function at school and in the public eye all week. She would zone out in the middle of a class discussion and fail to recall anything anybody had said. She would drop her things and leave things behind on her desks. I had to run to catch up to her one day to give her the calculator she'd neglected to pick up on her way out. When I pulled on her shoulder to spin her around I was frozen by the eyes of a shattered soul. She was jumpy and recluse; hardly speaking or looking at anyone.

_Everyone or anyone at all_

I worried that something was seriously wrong. It would creep in the back of my mind as I tried to get into Gatsby or something. Vivid thoughts of her sobbing and clutching at her sides in a secluded bathroom stall flooded my eyes. I rubbed at them only to have the image replaced with her wandering aimlessly out into the school parking lot and not seeing the oncoming car…

I was forced to shake myself from these thoughts before I snapped. Looking around frantically my gaze landed on her slumped over at her desk. I almost let out a sigh of relief.

_Or anyone at all_

A closer examination of her revealed that she was drawing on her signature sketchpad; hand in mid stroke, but stuck. The page remained blank and the frustration appeared to be boiling over as her eyes futilely held back tears. Her emotions granted her no clemency and I set my book down prepared for a breakdown. Nothing came; from her mouth nor onto the paper. She merely sat, cooping it all up inside trying stuff it into her hidden box that was much to full already.

_And grave that you refuse to leave_

I laid in bed that afternoon; while my mom went out shopping, and let the anger simmer. Why wouldn't she let me in? She had before and everything had turned out fine! I couldn't stand another day seeing her like this! Doesn't she know that it hurts me too? Can't she see she's tearing herself to pieces by keeping it all in? I didn't want her to suffer anymore. I wouldn't let her suffer anymore.

My mind was made but my tense body wouldn't budge from my mattress. What was I going to do? Waltz into her bedroom and demand that she give me her heart? I had neither the audacity nor the insanity to do such a thing. I was about to give up and let her wallow, although I knew that would last for about a day.

I heard a soft knocking at my door; so soft that I thought I'd just been hearing things. Since I didn't answer, the rapping returned again this time louder and more defined. Not missing a beat, I sprung up from my bed and nearly yanked the doorknob off in anticipation. My heart nearly jumped into my throat it was beating so intensely.

It was her! She seemed startled by my appearance at my own door but as soon as she locked eyes with me I saw her relax. She let me search her for any sign of what she'd come here for but her eyes were clouded by confusion and uncertainty.

_The refuge that you've built to flee_

Stepping backwards a foot, I cautiously made room for her to enter my room and still, with her heart on her sleeve screaming for help, she remained connected to my gaze. She crossed the boarder into my room languidly planting her feet inches from mine as her face held the same distance. I was unsure of what to do. All lines had blurred and I had no idea where I stood with her anymore. Fortunately she cleared that up for me.

Threading her fingers through my hair, she grabbed me and brought my lips down onto hers. I'd never felt as light headed or serene as I did when her sultry lips attached to mine. My hands had a mind of their own and they felt so at home on her hips as I pulled her closer to me. She pulled back for air and then dove in again; our lips crashing together.

Closing the door, I gently pressed her up against it and reluctantly pulled my lips from hers to move down her soft jaw line and drag across succulent slope of her neck. Her arms crawled up my back and clutched my shoulders as her mouth parted to let out a euphoric moan. My coarse fingers snuck up her slender sides and lifted her shirt up just enough to feel the silkiness of her sun kissed skin. I couldn't hold back anymore and the deepness that she dug her nails into my back told me she couldn't either.

_The places that you've come to fear the most_

I lifted my head from her neck and rested my forehead on hers. Upon opening my eyes I met hers with hooded lids. I was going to come out and say it but her eyes, dark with desire and want, were free of hesitation. I lifted her up and instinctively her sensuous slender legs wrapped themselves around my torso and rested on my hips. Colliding lips, I delicately laid her down on my unmade bed. She sucked on my bottom lip as I undid the laces of her sneakers and discarded them followed by every article of clothing we so foolishly planned on wearing that day.

She flipped me over letting her now heated body rest atop mine below her waist as the rest hovered over my torso. She swooped in capturing my lips and slipping her tongue inside my impatient mouth. She tasted so good I let out a low moan that reverberated in my chest. I felt her smile against my lips. She knew she was in control.

Flipping over again, I snagged a condom and looked down into her eyes that craved my touch and teemed over with lust. I attacked her sweet neck as she let me enter her. Her head flew back and she gasped deeply as the passion and fervor exploded her senses. The lines were no longer blurred; they were completely destroyed.

_Is the place that you have come to fear the most_

We laid in a mess of sheets as sweat laced our entwined bodies. Her curly mop lay contently on my chest an her hand traced circles on my pronounced abs. My arm was lazily draped over her exposed back. Every vein in my body felt as if it was about to burst with pleasure. She sighed and her hot breath tickled my torso.

For now, everything was okay. She'd let me in, in more ways than one, but the battle has just begun. After all, she was still Peyton with all her issues and walls and haunted pasts. To me, though, Lucas Scott, she was worth every heartache and heart-wrenching breakdown that was to come. I just hoped that she wasn't going to be afraid anymore. That I couldn't help her with.

The day dragged on but we stayed together in my room merely enjoying each other's consoling company. She eventually fell asleep, if I remember correctly, but I stayed up to watch her. She smiled when she slept and unfortunately that was the only time. Today, it would be different. When she woke up, for once in her life, that smile would still be there.


End file.
